CHAPTER FIVE – The Roads and mountains were full of people

CHAPTER FIVE – The Roads and mountains were full of people

“The next day,” said Dobrin, “we received news that at dawn on April 6, 1941 the Germans had invaded Greece and their tanks were rumbling in. In the meantime the Greek army was still in Albania. The Greek security services could not wait to hand over the alleged communists, that they held in their jails, to the Gestapo to be physically liquidated.

Many of the soldiers fighting for the Greek army in Albania had to return home on foot because they had been abandoned. The vast majority were Macedonians. The schools were closed and there was fear of arrests and killings everywhere.

Before the war had started I was sent to teach in the villages Tsakoni and Bidzhovo in Voden Region. I left Lerin hoping to find a new life in my work. In Tsakoni I spent the morning going around without purpose fussing under the sun, and after that arranging the register of my class. I gathered, I thought and occasionally I stuck my head out into the hallway and stared at the empty classrooms.

I silently repeated the names of my students. I felt like a man uttering prayers. I never wanted to be a teacher. I dreamed of going down the road following Gorky, to cast out my misconceptions about myself.

I remembered the words of Ianis Apostolos, a great communist, who said: ‘…It is possible, under certain circumstances, to proceed against your own will and conscience. If! But, leave behind that which you really are… a child of an enslaved people, a Macedonian!’…”

“Let the almighty God bless you, but did you ever preach this to the others?” interrupted Rumena, with an authoritative tone of voice, and continued: “The Macedonian National Question is the biggest pain of the heart and soul in the Macedonian people, no matter in which time you find yourself… It has always been that way, as my grandfather said so many times,” said Rumena.

“At first I kept quiet,” said Dobrin, “I thought it was not necessary to convince everyone of the communist ideology, but when dark justice fell upon us in those terrible times, it was shame for a man to sit idly by and do nothing.

The shackles, death, common hope became awful every day things. But the ‘Greek patriots’ were quick to adapt to the new politics.

Headed by Nikos Zahariadis, those ‘Greek patriots’ were on top of the Communist ladder and wasted no time to attack the Macedonians. The Macedonians were attacked during the CPG Central Committee 3rd Plenum and during the CPG Sixth Congress held in December 1935, demonstrably removing the Macedonian people’s democratic rights, treating them like a national minority without any rights, especially the right to self-determination. Perhaps this is why a village cow herder like myself became a politburo enemy and sent to Stalin’s camps of Beria and Siberia.”

“Exactly… they attacked you…” replied Rumena. “So, then and there you should have started changing your life and not listen to the ‘the cat is in the bag’ type promises. You know what the Greeks are like… they will look you in the eye and lie to your face… They sure know how to make promises…”

“Oh, that is just lovely. How nice of you to tell me all this now, my dear,” said Dobrin with a smile on his face and bowed slightly, seeming as if he was glad to have received this information and continued:

“Then things went a little sideways. The mountains and roads became filled with refugees. There were soldiers wearing raincoats, rags, jackets… They had fled the cities and barracks where they were tormented by the Germans and their servants.

The Germans confiscated everything they could get their hands on in the cities… including all the vehicles and food. The villages were flooded with hungry people who were willing to sell everything, including the shirts on their backs, for a little piece of bread and some beans.

The barbarian invaders quoting Goebbels kept repeating the slogan: “Europe will die so that Germany can live.” There was death and destruction everywhere. Hundreds of innocent people of all ages starved to death… a horrible slow death. The people were exterminated en masse and there was no end to the shootings and destruction.

The EAM and CPG leadership skillfully directed the masses to vent their anger against the foreigners.

Then on June 1, 1941, during the 6th Plenum, a Proclamation was made to organize the masses to begin a national uprising!

During this Proclamation the communists said:

‘The ultimate goal is socialism, the Party of the proletariat, the Communist Party of Greece. Today we are fighting for national liberation and after that, after the war, for a people’s democracy!’

But in order to achieve a people’s democracy the Macedonian people had to win... Everything depended on us winning…”

“Weren’t you afraid of what might happen if you didn’t win?” asked Rumena.

“No! I was never afraid of that...” replied Dobrin.

Dobrin did not object to Rumena’s off the wall questions. He knew how stubborn she could be. He knew that Rumena was very delicate, excessively emotionally sensitive and valuable. So he allowed her, more often than not, to drag him to the places of his past, examining whether perhaps he could have made better choices in life and avoided the pitfalls that got him here. Her behavior did not make much difference to how Dobrin felt.

She was a woman full of humour, less aggressive when discussing the status of women, and very much upset when discussing women in communism. She would say that these women needed to dispense with their glittering façade and concentrate on developing and appreciating the inner qualities of life.

The time for women being decorated like Christmas trees was over for Rumena. This is how she saw things. This is how, from this high and tranquil position, she observed people’s misfortunes and sometimes laughed and sometimes shook her head when she saw a woman dressed up to the hilt walking beside her man of political distinction; but ironically this is what she wanted for herself.

“Are you sleeping well?” asked Rumena.

“Only from time to time… I take a nap here and there…” replied Dobrin.

“I have been having trouble sleeping. The last couple of nights I couldn’t sleep much, I don’t know what’s wrong... Do you think maybe we will finally have our lives back…? Or maybe we will just imagine that we have our lives back…?” asked Rumena.

Like behaving in a surprise traumatic situation, Rumena’s approach to things was to completely surrender to the power of tears and make some sounds from her nose and throat.

“My dear Rumena, you are some kind of fighter. But you are my fighter, aren’t you?” asked Dobrin and continued: “Do you think those tears of yours will give you an advantage?”

“No!” she said abruptly and continued. “But you should know that there are men out there who feel it is their duty to take action when a woman sheds tears... You tell that when I die, it will be less difficult for me if I remember that we were revolutionaries, and perhaps it will be less difficult for you when you think of the investigators who had no names… and no surnames… and that they were all called ‘Comrade’...”

The next day, the weather was warm, the day was great and everything was neither alive nor dead. To Rumena the arrival of morning seemed infinitely distant. She was always looking for something to pass her hours of boredom. She usually repacked her clothing in her suitcases. She showed her feminine curiosity as she

examined her beautiful silk garments, gently pushing them down with both hands.

“This one is from you. I remember your words when you said to me: ‘What would I get in return if I get you this pleasant novelty, Rumina?’ It was in Alma-Ata,” remarked Rumina as she sorted through her suitcases.

“A man like myself, with my character and my broken spirit, cannot be surprised by anything, my dear Rumena!” replied Dobrin.

“I don’t forget anything! That’s what keeps me going, my dear Dobrin,” said Rumena and continued.

“You communists are interesting people, especially when you think that we women should worship you like true gods and at the same time you are women haters. Your system of strict obedience entails ‘blind obedience’. But that is important to you. The horror overwhelms me when I think about it...” concluded Rumena.

Feeling like hot breath was wafting behind him, Dobrin took a few silent steps towards Rumena and in a deep manly tone of voice asked: “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

Rumena grabbed a bottle of “pertsovka” vodka and a can of “saliotka” fish from her nylon bag. She opened the bottle of vodka and poured some in a couple of glasses.

“Good God, what is happening to you?” Dobrin cried out, looking anxious.

“This is a Russian drink, the kind of vodka that Stalin drank to tranquillize himself. It was a means of pacifying himself because of the subconscious feelings that constantly hovered inside him… feelings that needed to be revealed and discussed. As for me, I need to find a way to get out of these shelters… but how and to go where?” replied Rumena.

Dobrin may have often leafed through Lenin’s works, watched television or listened to the radio. But he was a very sincere and

honest person and Rumena was never able to find flaws in him, such as vulnerability, until she learned how much it meant to him to hear her praise him about how he served communist internationalism.

“Dobrin you and I are part of a world that is disappearing... here, drink some, alcohol neutralizes fear...”

“My God! I could hear my interrogator’s voice last night. It sounded like it was very close and we were all chained together and kneeling before him…” said Dobrin and continued. “I persevered. I am here. But it did not end...”

“What? It did not end?” yelled Rumena suffocating from rage. “Are you serious?”

“No it did not end! Maybe these things will inflict a mortal blow, they will begin to spring up when we get out of this shelter,” replied Dobrin.

“Oh, my dear Dobrin you have been enduring sleeplessness, torture, hunger, fighting… how can your poor heart withstand all that? Your heart is not made of steel or stone… it’s simply a muscle. This disgusting war, a blessing for some, is not for you. And I too am overwhelmed by my fate being terrorized!” said Rumena and looked outside.

The sun was shining through the window and the room was warm and cozy. “The Masons believe the sun is the bearer of truth, courage and justice and the moon is a symbol of pure love…” said Dobrin.